The Truth Behind Lies
by Konsui's Little Brother
Summary: It was a simple game. The goal; to break Edward Elric. The rules; the Truth had no rules. But what happens when someone finds out about the deadly game that the young alchemist is playing?
1. Prolog

The blurry scenes of snow covered rocks, broken only by the occasional wooden cabin sitting lone among the pine-trees, whizzed past the window as the train trudged up the side of the mountain. A gentle snow was falling outside, as it had for the past few weeks, though it seemed almost like a blizzard through the frost-covered windows. On the inside of the cabin, jacket pulled tight around him, Edward was laying the book he had been reading down on the red-covered train seat.

He had the whole bench-seat to himself that day, as he normally did on train-rides, but the spots on the seat he wasn't occupying were filled with books that he'd brought from the Central Library. Several pages had escaped from his messily scrawled note-books and were scattered across the compartments floor. But unlike normally, the person sharing the compartment with him wasn't complaining. Instead, his partner for this mission was sprawled on the seat across from him; fast asleep with out a care to the way that their compartment was getting colder by the second. But then, Roy hadn't been much company even when he was awake.

As it was, the cold air was what had gotten the younger alchemist's attention. The higher up the mountain the train went, the colder and more frigid the air got. And while it may have been a little too cold for the sleeping Colonol's taste, it felt more like the window was sitting open to Edward. But that was just one of the many flaws to having to limbs made out of automail.

The flaxen-haired alchemist pulled his jacket tighter around him as he scowled out the window, some vain hope wishing that his glare would melt the snow out there. Unfortunatly for him, the coat that he was wearing was meant for summer weather. Not snow. And certaintly not the amount of snow that would be coming down when the train finally came to a stop near the top of the mountain.

Edward, knowing full well that his glare wasn't about to do anything to the snow falling outside, instead turned it to the sleeping man across from him. There was no doubt in the boy's mind that it was Roy's fault he was freezing. In fact, it actually was the older mans fault.

The mission was not an alchemist specific one. The Fuhrer had just requested two alchemists to go to the mountain town of Bendri for a standard check of the coal mines there. And for reasons that Edward could only guess at, and none of these guesses were very kind, Roy had decided that the two Elric boys were going to go to the mine. And, like always, they had been in the middle of a very important find on the Philosophers Stone. An actual book lead, the type that Edward was best at solving, that looked like it might really get them somewhere.

As such, the two couldn't afford to leave it be and let it go stale. Not with what happened the last time they had a book lead (the whole library had gone up in flames). So the young alchemist had sent his brother to the library and told Roy that he would be going to the mine on his own. The lead was just to important for them both to go. So Roy, in some scheme that Ed hadn't fully discovered yet but was obviously there, had said that he would accompany Fullmetal on the mission.

So he was fully justified when he claimed that it was Roy's fault he was so cold.

And on top of that, of having the lead on his mind and someone he didn't fully know what to say about asleep in the same compartment as him, Edward couldn't sleep. And that was something that irked him even more then the cold.

See, when the young alchemist was in a hotel or at the dorm he shared with his brother, even during the few times he managed to get away to the Rockbell house, he had a difficult time getting to sleep and when he did get to sleep his dreams were wracked with nightmares and thoughts of the Truth. Haunting thoughts that had him waking in a cold sweat all through out the night, gasping for air and clawing at his throat, willing the taste of blood in his mouth to go away. But when he was on a train, somewhere he spent most of his life at, the boy generally didn't have problems getting to sleep; just keeping his mind blank.

And yet today, when he needed the sleep most so he could work through all the equations swimming around in his mind, he couldn't get even a fleeting grasp on the desperatly needed sleep. The slow hum of the engine, the foot-steps going up and down the aisle-way outside of his compartment, even the gentle rocking movement of the train itself only served to further the head-ache he had forming behind his temple and push any thoughts of sleep further from his mind.

And, for a reason only Edward himself knew, that was starting to scare him. It meant that a new round of the game was starting; and he was beginning to wonder just how many more rounds he could take before he lost the Game.

Shaking his head slightly, golden braid swinging around to smack him on the side of the face, Edward pushed his thoughts away from the nasty direction they were taking. And, as he once more pulled the jacket around him and settled back against the seat to try and get a little sleep, it was all that he could do to ignore the heavy feeling of dread that was settling in his chest.


	2. Chapter One

A/N: Chapter one is up! I would like to let you all know now that, not only will this be slow in being updated until January, but the lengths for each chapter will change depending on what I'm putting in it. Like this was the length it is, mainly so I can get the story started.

* * *

"Okay, so these are the carts that you carry the coal out in?" Edward tapped his foot against one of the metal carts in front of him; a rather bored look settled on his face.

The miner that was showing Edward and Roy the mine and how it worked, a large burly looking man that vaguely resembled Armstrong, nodded. "Tha's it. We toss the coal in thare and haul it on up to be crated."

Edward nodded as he knelt down in beside the cart, a rusted piece of metal that really shouldn't have been in use any more, one hand running down the side of it as he went.

_**Forty-percent iron. Thirty-percent steel. Thirty percent carbon. Heavy layer of rust. Wheels are loose. It will give way in three more trips, loosing what ever load it has in it when it does.**_

Nose scrunching up slightly as the facts filtered into his mind, coming out in an all too familar voice, Edward pushed himself away from the cart; promptly taking the few steps that would bring him to stand beside his Colonol. Since Roy hadn't been out on a simple mine checking mission in years, both alchemist's had decided that it would be best if he just held the clip-board and took what-ever notes Edward told him to take. Not something that the Flame Alchemist prided himself on doing, it was a fact that would never get out to the rest of the people in his Platoon, but he supposed that it was better than doing the actual work. Yet, Edward seemed determined not to let him even do that.

The moment that the blonde reached his Colonol, he snatched the pen and the clipboard from the elder's hand and began to write down his own notes.

_Mining Carts? Poor quality metal. Heavely rusted and in need of repair. Looks like it will collapse soon._

And then he was shoving the clip-board back at Roy and stalking back over to the miner.

Roy let out a sigh as he looked down at the paper on the top of the stack. As always, the words were almost illegible, being literally nothing more than chicken scratch. Just like everything that Edward wrote was. So the Flame Alchemist was left to spend his time, while Edward discussed coal mining procedures with the miner, re-writing Edward's notes.

"-not finished repairin' aftah the change in hands." The miner motioned to several beams on the cieling that, unlike the rest of the wood-work that was supporting the walls and cieling of the mine, was rather old and dingy.

"So when do you think the rest of the repairs are going to happen?" Edward didn't like the way those beams looked; even the faint cold breeze drifting into the mine made them shake and sway gently.

"Hrm...Hons'ly, I ain't got the foggiest clue. See, we used up mos' of our resou'sces all ready." The miner, in what could be taken as an attempt to distract Edward from the aging beams, motioned for the two alchemists to follow him deeper inside of the tunnels.

The further into the tunnels they walked, the colder and damper the air got. It was as though the frozen wind was forcing itself up from the very end of the tunnel, trying desperatly to claw its way to the surface worl. "What's with all the wind? There an opening or something back here?"

Roy frowned slightly as he finished re-writing one of the flaxen-haired boys notes. He had only come along on this inspection because he figured, if the reports turned in at the end of them were anything to go by, that it was Alphonse who looked everything over and Edward just wrote down the notes. The younger boy seemed lazy enough for that to be the case, at least. But, no, Edward evidently took this all very seriously. Something, he made a mental note, that he would have to ask Alphonse about when they returned to Central.

Clicking the lid back onto the pen, and sliding it into his pocket, Roy took a few longer strides so that he could catch up with the two men in front of him. Both of them seemed perfectly at ease in the dankness of the mine, even though from the way the light was dimming night would be falling soon, but Roy preferred to be in his room at the inn when night fell. "Fullmetal. Let's head back up to the town for the night. We'll leave the inspection of the tunnels for the morning."

Straightening up from where he'd knelt down to the ground, a small bit of black dirt inbetween his thumb and pointer finger, Edward closed his eyes and gave the older man a terse nod. "Fine. We'll go back." Even his voice was terse. And quite frankly, Ed didn't care.

If it had been Alphonse with him, the younger boy would have known to let Edward finish then. And, on normal conditions he would have argued, but he was too tired to do that right then. Maybe once they made it back to the hotel he would.

The train ride up the mountain, on a very uninsulated train, took almost four days. In those four days Edward could honestly say that he got exactly seven hours, thirty eight minutes, and nine seconds of sleep; none of it had been peaceful, either, and the young boy was ready to lay down on the inn's bed and try to catch the slumber that had evaded him the last few days.

"Oh...Fine. I won' be able ta show ya'll 'round tomorrow though. I'll have ta have Mikel give ya a tour." The miner frowned slightly, more at Roy than at Ed, before he turned back to face the tunnel that they had just walked down. He was clearly unhappy at having to go back; no doubt because he wanted to be the one to get the glory of showing off their mine.

It was odd, Roy couldn't help but think, that Edward had just let them go up to the surface of the mine. He'd been expecting the golden tressed boy to burst at the seams in rage, some obscene shout about having to get back to Central for research; at the very least oe of the younger boys withering glares.

Instead, he had begun to silently trail after the miner. Who's name Roy still didn't know. He would have to fix that before the day was over. That way the Fuhrer knew who was being referred to in the report when it was turned in.

The walk was silent for the longest time. The only sounds being the soft clacking of boots against the ground and the ever present breeze that seemed to, impossibly, be coming from the back of the mine. And then, when they were almost to the front of the mine, he heard the noise of soft foot-steps from up ahead of him.

Roy blinked, looking away from the notes in his hand, and peered down the mine-shaft. A young girl, maybe ten or eleven, was running towards them. She was waving a brown paper-bag around in her hand, a large smile on her face.

"Papa! Papa, I brought dinner down for you!" She slowed down to a walk as she called out to her father.

Her father, how ever, didn't look very happy. A frown creased his face, nose wrinkled up. "Melira! Go back to the town. You know you aren't sup-Melira!"

And, just like that, a loud crack rang out through the mine. It all seemed to happen in slow motion too, though Roy could clearly tell what was about to happen, as a beam above the miners daughter cracked. Beside him, there was the noise of Edward clapping. A flash of blue. The familar crackling of alchemy being put into motion.

And then everything went to hell.


	3. Chapter Two

No. That wasn't right. The blue energy shot up frm the ground around, just like it should, and it started crackling around the beam heading for the miners daughter. Again, just like it should have. But then he caught sight of the same energy coursing up one of the beams supporting the roof. And that wasn't supposed to happen.

**You've messed up. You've messed up big time. That's the main support beam and look what you did to it! There will be a collapse of the main tunnel in less than two minutes. You're tra~apped!**

The beam heading towards Melira burst, shattering into thousands of harmless wood shards, just as the girl hit the ground. The bag of food that she had been carrying flew out of her hands, landing several yards away, and she let out a short yelp of pain. There would be skinned knees from the fall but other than that she was fine.

Her father had already started running over to her. The tour of the mine had completely slipped from his mind as he scooped the young girl into his arms, quiet reassurances that she was fine being whispered to her.

This all happened in the course of a few seconds and Edward wasn't paying attention to any of it. Instead his eyes were locked onto the beam a few feet away from him, the one that the residual energy from his transmutation had locked onto, as the wood slowly started to warp and twist. The faded brown color of the wood changed to an ashen grey, darker in the spots where it dipped down, and the whole thing was starting to give off a slight blue glow from the sparks that were still working their way up it.

"Shit." Edward narrowed his sleep-hazed eyes and readied himself to clap his hands together and reverse the transmutation.

Just as his hands clapped together, the echoing noise catching the attention of the older man beside him, the beam mirrored the one he had stopped from falling on Melira. Only instead of exploding into the same small and harmless shards that had showered down on the girl, the wood exploded into large splinters.

The wooden pieces shot outwards from the beam. Sharpened and misshapen pieces shooting in all directions, a flurry of wood-dust half-blinded the two soldiers, and throwing his automail arm up over his eyes was all that Edward could do.

Unlike how it normally affected him, with energy coursing through his body and a sharper mind, the danger was what finally sent his mind into a sleep-fogged state. It was as though he had just woken up and had no clue as to what was going on. All his training, the years that he'd had fighting techniques beaten into him, slipped from his mind leaving him standing there and waiting for the dust to clear.

But the dust didn't clear. Instead, there was a loud rumbling noise from above him, sounding almost like thunder, and the whole mine seemed to start shaking. Dust and bits of rocks rained down on them, lodging themselves in his hair and his clothes, but it wasn't until he heard a pained shout from Roy that his mind started to work again; though it was still going slower than usual.

Edward spun around in the direction that the shout had come from only to be forced to stumble backwards, feet moving out of their own accord, as a section of the roof crashed down in front of him. More dust flew into his face, the sand stinging his eyes, and he threw his arms up to try and block the debris again.

His feet found the mangled base of where the beam once stood, one leg flying up in the air as the rest of his body went soaring towards the ground. It would almost be comical looking if another section of the cieling wasn't falling towards the same spot.

With being capable of doing nothing else, Ed forced his body to roll to the left. Another large boulder, freshly fallen, was blocking his path. For a split second, he couldn't think of anything else to do. His mind was going blank, the lack of sleep starting to take its toll on his mind again, and then he heard another pained cry from Mustang and could only think of one thing.

_Find Mustang._

**It'll be too late. You heard him, Mr. Al-che-mist, you heard him scream. That was his leg, being shattered into thousands of pieces.**

_I've got to help him, got to save him, got to find him._

Edward grabbed a hold of the rock that had stopped his roll, though he had still managed to get far enough away to avoid being crushed by the other one, as he started to pull himself up. "Hang on, Mustang!" He called out, not really sure why the words had been spoken instead of staying in his mind like he intended them to.

But then there was another awful crack, this one noise standing out from the rest of the rumbling that filled the mine, and it was Roy's voice he heard screaming his name.

**Watch out, Mr. Al-che-mist! You better be careful...**

And then a different sort of craking sound filled the air, quickly lost by the rest of the noise in the mine-shaft, and an unglorified howl ripped its way out of Edward's throat. The noise was a gutteral sound, heard only for a moment before it was drowned out by crashing, but it lasted for far longer than it was heard.

More rubbage fell. More screams filled the air. And then Edward couldn't breath right and his vision was faded and all that he could hear was the awful, child-like laughing that was filling his mind.


	4. Chapter Three

A/N: This one is more of a chapter to build suspense up and let you all know a bit more about what is going on with Edward. It's also probably my worst one yet. Next chapter though, you get to find out what happens with Ed!

* * *

Blackness. Complete and total blackness. There was no noise, no scents, no sounds. It was just black. A thick suffocating black that seemed to reach out and wrap itself around Edward's throat, grabbing and squeezing and holding, and it wasn't letting go.

But it wasn't the darkness that scared Edward. No. He was used to that by now; used to the darkness and the choking and the complete and utter blankness that ate away at his sanity. Hours had been spent trapped in the surreal realm that he found himself in now, just staring at the never ending nothing.

It just didn't bother him anymore. Nothing the he was shown there was something that he hadn't seen hundreds of thousands of times already and while it still gave him nightmares, while he still woke up in a cold sweat from them, they were just that. Things from the past that would forever haunt him. This time seemed different though. There was just something about the way the air, non-existant as it was, swirled around him this time. It was thicker and filled with a menacing intent.

And then a soft, white glow appeared in the distanse and Edward felt every muscle in his body tense. He _knew_ that glow. He knew it and it, more than anything else, scared him. Terrified him, really. The soft, innocent, white glow made the hairs stand up along the back of his neck and the top of his arms.

_He_ was here.

Edward took a deep breath, a sharp intake of air, and took a step back into the darkness. The light stayed where it was and he was sharply reminded that if He wanted to speak with Edward, then Edward wouldn't be going any where. It wasn't like there was anywhere for him to go anyway. The darkness would swallow him and never let him go if he strayed any further into _His Space_. The fact that the whole space was once Edward's mind didn't matter.

"What do you want?" Edward spat out at the glowing form, almost the shape of a human now.

**"Want? Mr. Al-che-mist, you should know what I want from you."** A low clicking noise emanated from the glow then, like a mother 'tsking' her child.

And, true to what _He_ was saying, Edward did know what he was there for. A new round for the game that he had been bound to play; by body, mind, and soul. Bound by the contract that he had signed with his own blood; the very blood that currantly kept Alphonse's soul trapped in the suit of armor that served as his body. But he wasn't usually drug into this..._this place_ just because _He_ wanted to rub it in.

"Alright, so then tell me why I'm here!" Edward barked. He didn't want to play The Game right then, not that he ever did, he wanted to get back out in that cave and make sure Mustang was alright!

**"Oh, but he isn't Mr. Al-che-mist. The game's getting more in-ter-est-ing! I just wanted to remind you of the ru~les!"** The voice was practically singing; high-pitched and low at the same time. Thousands of voices all swimming together, hundreds of sounds blending, just to form the voice that came out of the glowing shape and echoed through-out the nothingness.

But Edward didn't want to hear the rules. He didn't want to be reminded of why Mustang was being cru-no, no he was fine. He wouldn't die while Edward was caught up in a talk with _Him_. The older man was being drug in as a pawn, a useless tool, to try and stop Edward.

"I don't need to be reminded of anything." He snapped at the voice. But the voice just laughed at him, that seem child-like laugh that always filled his mind.

**"Oh, but Mr. Al-che-mist, I think you do need a refresher course! You just have to remember that when you bra~ake, you have to come back to me~e!" **The only way to describe the voice then was that, yes, it _was_ singing. But then it dropped down to a low voice that sent chills down Edward's spine and his stomache churn. **"And trust me, Mr. Al-che-mist, you can't last much longer."**

And then the light was gone and there was that awful, ridiculing laugh. Echoing around him, pulling him bodily deeper into the black, and it was all that Edward could do to even try to struggle and get away. But it was no use and he _knew_ that it wasn't any use.

Slowly, the darkness in front of him started to change. Colors were added to the black, creating an awful swirling mass, and pictures started to form.

A younger him, missing a leg and screaming at some un-seeable force.

A writhing mass of blood and bones and organs; one hand outstretched and reaching towards him, begging him to fix her.

A splattered mess of blood on an alley wall where the rain was doing its best to wash it all away.

A city in the desert laying in ruins; blood coating everything there.

A woman, strong and brave, crouched on the ground; holding her stomache and coughing up scarlet.

Edward could feel the terror coursing through his veins, pulsing and causing his breath to get stuck in his throat, even though he had been witness to the visions plenty of times before. They still made his blood run cold and his mind go blank. And then there was a sight that he'd never seen before.

The colors swirled once more, flashing to a darker scene were all that Edward saw was red. That awful crimson liqued was everywhere; splattered on the stone walls, the stone floors, the rocks and wooden poles that littered the scene. Not even the cieling had escaped the mural of blood. And then something in the middle of all the rubble, of all the red, moved. A dark shape that, with a jolt, he realized was human.

A wet gasping noise filled the air, the only sound that he'd heard the since _He_ left, and the picture in front of him shifted. Literally, the room he was looking into moved so that he could see the black shape in the middle of the room. And when it did, he felt the sour taste of bile rise in the back of his throat.

Red on his hair, on his face, on his body, _everywhere_! And Mustang wasn't moving. He wasn't breathing but he was still making that God-awful gasping noise.

"No!" Edward's shout came out as a whisper, eyes wide and breath virtually gone, as he tried to step away from the _thing_ in front of him. "No! Not it's not real! This hasn't happened! You're just making it up!"

And the laughter grew louder. Louder and filled with more scorn. **"Not yet, Mr. Al-che-mist, not yet it hasn't! But this round's just starting and there's so much that could happen. So much that **_**will**_** happen."**

And then the pictures, the images, started over again. They flicked through themselves faster, new ones being added and old ones being taken away but that one image, the one with so much red, was what it always ended with. And Edward could only think of one thing.

It was his fault. All his fault. _-_

He killed them.


	5. Chapter Four

A/N: I am so very sorry for how awful this chapter is! I'm not the best at writing scenes like this, which is why I'm doing this story, and I know that it's not all that good. Thing is, Edward's injuries will be described more, and with more detail, in the next chapter. I hope that the bad writing in this hasn't put you off from the story though...

* * *

It was an odd thing, waking up to the sound of his own screaming, but that's exactly what Edward heard when his eyes first shot open. Voice hoarse and low, it was nothing more than a gutteral and unintelligable screach of pure fear and agony, broken only by a wet cough coming from his throat.

He could feel the copper colored liqued rising from his throat when he coughed. It stained his lips and dripped down his chin. The metalic taste hovered in his mouth as it dripped back down his throat; pushed back up a second later when he burst into another coughing fit. Edward's head was forced foreward by the motion, a low gasp of pain forming from the movement.

Black spots were dancing across his vision. Not that he could see much in the stifling darkness of the mine. Though...it seemed like it had gotten darker since the last time that Edward had opened his eyes. He couldn't make anything out in front of him; just an odd black-grey color of whatever was in front of him.

Closing his eyes as tightly as he could, enough so he could see small white blobs dancing in his vision, Edward took a deep breath in an attempt to rid himself of the black spots and get his mind working again. Only, when he tried to breath in, all he got was a strangled gasp of air and another wet cough.

A streak of panic shot through him as he realized that he couldn't breathe right. As he made that realization, his mind seemed to come out of whatever haze the Nightmare had left it in. Everything seemed to crash down around him then, pain coming in waves from every side of his body, and he found that the only thing his mind was registering clearly then was pain.

**"Welcome back, Mr. Al-che-mist! Are you ready to pla~ay?"**

Shaking his head, which caused a bolt of pain to shoot through his temples and behind his eyes, Edward struggled to figure out what was wrong with him. Normally, Truth just told him how bad his injuries were. This time though, it seemed like it was a part of the Game to let him figure out what was wrong on his own.

It took him a few moments, of trying to block out the pains in his body and the far-off rumblings that were still happening around him, but eventually his mind was able to tell him that the reason he couldn't get a proper breath was because something was laying across his chest and stomach. Practically crushing his chest and stomache was probably a better word for it.

A large boulder, part of the cieling, was wedged on top of his body. Whatever other pieces of rubble it was stuck between, one he was leaning on and one that both his legs were pressed against, were all that was keeping it from coming down all the way and crushing him completely.

Another bolt of fear shot through him as, when he noticed the rock being there, the pain in his torso increased. He felt his breath catch in his throat, eyes widening in a panicked state, and the only thing that went through his mind was that he had to get out from his trapped state. He had to make sure that the image of Roy, the image of so much God-awful red, wasn't coming true out there.

Not bothering to try and figure out what the extent of the rest of his injuries was, Edward tried to push himself away from the stone-cage. Using his automail arm, because something in the far back of his head told him not to try using his other one, Ed started to push his body to the side and roll out. But the moment that he started to move, it hit him why he hadn't tried to use his left arm in the beginning.

White hot, searing, blood curdling pain shot through his arm; the little bit of breath that he'd managed to gather leaving his lungs in an uncontrolled scream. His body fell back against the stone behind him, unable to move, as wave after wave of nauseating pain shot through him.

Ed could feel the shattered bones in his arm move, scraping against each other and piercing through nerves, and he felt his stomach lurch. A sour, coppery taste entered his mouth; burning the skin in his throat, raw from screaming, on it's way up. Fingers twitched, pulsing with out him actually moving them, as the pain shot up and down his arm.

The whole thing was crushed, sandwiched in between two rouch pieces of cieling. Dark crimson dripped down the bottom layer of stone forming a small pool at the bottom of it, the dark liqued staining the clothes that Edward was wearing. And, aside from the burning sensation shooting through all of the nerves in his arm, all he could feel was the tell-tale pins and needles that came from having a body part go to 'sleep'. Which meant that, not only had he lost a lot of blood, he'd also lost circulation in that arm for who knew how long.

**"Twenty-two minutes. Much longer, Mr. Al-che-mist, and you'll lose that arm too! But don't forget what else you could loose..."**

Forcing his eyes and mouth open, both of which had slammed shut when he innitially tugged on his arm, Edward blearily tried to peer around him once more. He could see even less now, with the black spots in his vision having doubled, and he certaintly didn't see what he was looking for.

"Mu-mustang?" His voice was weak, coming out as nothing louder than a hoarse whisper, and it was obvious that no one would have heard it. Over the throbbing in his ears, the raspy sound of himself trying to pull in breaths of air, and the noise of his bones creaking and scraping against each other eoching in his ears, Ed could still hear the mine tunnel rumbling around him. The shaft was trying to settle and stop itself from collapsing the rest of the way. Unfortunatly, it wasn't doing much.

Closing his eyes again, a look of utmost misery on his face, he cleared his throat and took in another small breath of air. "Mustang? Are...Are yo-you the-there?"

There was no answer. The image flashed in front of his eyes again, that awful one with Roy, and he felt his grip on his calm start to loosen.

"Mustang!" Edward's voice was still barely hearable, still hoarce and soft, but the panic there was unmistakable. There was no way for him to get out from under the rocks, no way for him to get to his commanding officer, nothing that he could do but wait and hope something happened soon.


	6. Chapter Six

A/N: I bet you all thought I was dead, huh? Well, I'm not. Sort of. I feel like I'm dead even if I'm really not. Anyways, I hope you all like this chapter! And please, no pitchforks!

* * *

There it was again. Mustand froze, eyes darting through the almost pitch blackness, as eh tried to find the source of the noise he knew that he'd heard. Twice now, actually. It was a soft sound but so out of place in the rumbling of the setteling mine and Roy knew there was only one thing that it could actually be.

Edward.

It had to be the younger alchemist making that noise, even if the thought of strong-willed Ed whimpering set his stomache churning. If there was one thing that the other alchemist didn;t do, it was whimper. Complain, yes. Whine, all the time. Shout like there was no tomorrow, definatly. He did not whimper. Ever.

The noise sounded again and Roy realized with a jolt that it was coming further towards the middle of the room; away from the wall that he was currantly leaning against. If he wanted to get to it, then he was going to have to walk there with no aid. Something he did not want to do.

Roy had 'woken up' only a few minutes ago. The mine had already stopped crumbling for the most part and he hadn't appeared to have been that injured in the collapse. Until the haze dissapeared from his mind and he realized that his leg, the left one, had been crushed beneath a chunk of rock. With his limited medical knowledge, a quick look over the injured limb told him that the bone was most likely completely crushed. Everytime he moved the limb, bones scraped against each other and sent spasms of pain shooting from his leg up to his tail bone.

The black haired alchemist had taken to leaning against the wall, dragging his left leg on the ground when he had to move. His guess placed the main break roughly around his knee somewhere; he wasn't sure whether it was above it, below it, or both though.

Holding his breath, Roy pushed himself off of the wall and towards where the whimper-noise had come from. The motion sent fire shooting through the limb, a painful throbbing trailing all the way up to his lower back, and he could feel his eyes start to sting. Still it was something that he could easily deal with; especially if it meant finding his subordinate.

As he hobbled towards the denter of the large room, the vague whimpers slowly turned into soft-spoken words. Words that were unmistakably calling out his name. Without thinking, Roy was already responding. "Fullmetal? Fullmetal, is that you?" He wasn't sure who else it could be but...

"M-mustang...You g-good?" Ed forced out. The words clawed at his throat on their way up, catching and almost sticking in his throat. It hurt so badly (breathing, speaking, even thinking was starting to hurt) but he had to know that the Colonol was alright. That the image hadn't come true while he was unconscious or trapped in his mind or whatever it was actually called. Being insane sounded like a good way to put it.

Good? It sounded like Edward was dieing, _bad thought, don't think things like that_, and he was asking if he was alright? Oddly enough, that thought was almost comforting. It meant that the younger boy was still thinking like he normally did; not a single thought directed at himself. "I'm fine, Fullmetal."

"What 'bout y-your leg?" A weak cough forced its way out of Ed's throat after he spoke. Blood dribbled down his chin, joining the steadily growing puddle on the ground around him, and his chest ached as he tried to bring in enough air to replace what he'd just hacked out. He knew that Truth had told him something about Roy's leg, even if he couldn't remember exactly what it had been.

**'It was shattered, Mister Al-Che-Mist~! Can't you even remember that?'**

Oh yeah. The thought would have sent his stomache churning if it wasn't already. Though churning wasn't really the right word for it. Trying to turn itself inside out seemed more accurate. Or maybe...Edward blinked heavily in an attempt to clear his mind and push the useless thoughts away. For the life of him, he couldn't remember what had set off that tangent of thought.

"My leg?" Roy furrowed his eyebrows, charcoal eyes narrowing as he did. How on Earth did Ed know that he'd hurt his leg? Running his hand lightly down the no doubt completely ruined pants leg, careful to avoid actually hitting the supposedly broken part, Roy found himself peering into the darkness to try and find his subordinate. Obviously, he couldn't.

"It's busted up pretty badly and I'm almost certain that it's broken. I can still walk though." Sort of. Hobbeling was almost the same as walking, wasn't it? Roy decided that it was. "What about you, Fullmetal? How badly are you hurt and where at?" There was no use asking 'if' he was hurt because he obviously was.

Ed was silent for a few moments, trying to decide just where he was hurt. If he didn't know how pathetic it sounded, he would just say 'everywhere', _it felt like everywhere_, and be done with it. He still had a clear enough head to know that Mustang would not appreciate that as an answer though. In the end, he settled for just the worst spots. No sense in making anyone worry. "M' arm a-and m' chest. Lots'a r-rocks."

"How badly?" Roy hoped it was just the shock of everything happening so suddenly that was causing that stutter and not an injury.

"M-my arm's stuck." A pause. "I'm s-stuck." That was probably when the panic set in; something that wouldn't have happened if Ed had been fully rested and properly fed and not teetering on the brink of insanity.

He could feel his throat tighten, chest following suit, and his breathing became harsher; less of a gasp and more of a breathless pant. Except that he wasn't really getting enough air for that, something that sent even more terror racing through his mind. "I-I'm s-stuck, Mus-mustang!"

A cold chill swept through Roy at Ed's panic-filled voice. There had to be something more than just being 'stuck' wrong for him to sound like that. The thought of all the things left being unsaid, mind suddenly running rampant with ideas, didn't help lessen the feeling. Still, if the normally level-headed alchemist was so distressed than it wouldn't do for Roy to show how worried he was. Someone had to try and stay calm after all.

Taking a deep breath to steady both his voice and his body, Roy started the trek across the mine once more. "Calm down, Fullmetal. I'll find you and have you free in no time. Just don't pani-"

The next thing he knew, his good leg was slamming against a fallen beam that he hadn't seen in the shadows and he was plummeting foreward. Both of his arms flew in front of him to break his fall, moving on pure instinct, and he slammed into one of the many chunkc of rock now littering the area; gloved hands scrabbling at the craggy rock to try and keep himself from falling.

Roy let himself crumple onto the ground, landing in a painful heap ontop of his broken leg, when a high-pitched wail sounded from beneath him.


End file.
